I’ll just keep commuting into London when I need to be there for business.
And staying here works well, as Taylor is hoping to be accepted to Oxford for a master’s in English literature. She hopes to one day become a lecturer just like her dad was.
She put her application in a few weeks ago, so now, we just have to wait.
I’m confident she’ll get in because she’s smart.
But, really, all I care about is that she’s looking to the future, a future with me.
I open the passenger door for Taylor and wait until she’s in before I shut the door behind her. I get in the driver’s side, and we wait for my grandpa. He climbs in the backseat a few minutes later.
I turn the engine on, and we head back to Hunter Hall for the wake where we’ll celebrate Archie’s life with good food and good friends.
It’s late in the evening. The wake ended hours ago. Grandpa went up to bed early.
Taylor and I decided to get an early night, too. It’s been an emotionally tiring day, and I don’t want her overdoing herself. She might have the all-clear, but I still want her to take things easy.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower, and I’m walking back into the bedroom, a towel around my waist.
I see Taylor sitting in the middle of our bed, legs crossed, a notepad in her lap, and she’s scribbling away. Her headscarf is still on. It bothers me that she feels the need to cover her head when it’s just her and me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She lifts her head, smiling at me. “I’m writing a new list.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Pulling the towel from my waist, I see her eyes come straight to my nakedness. Suppressing a grin, I rub the towel over my wet hair and toss it over the back of a chair. I grab some pajama pants and pull them on.
I go and sit down on the bed next to her and look over her shoulder at her list. The title alone makes me smile.
Things to Do with Liam (Even If He’s Already Done Them)
“You’re cute.” I rest my chin on her shoulder.
Smiling, she glances back at me. “You’re kinda cute yourself, Hunter.” She presses a kiss to the tip of my nose and then turns her eyes back to her list.
I look down at the list. “Go to France,” I say, reading the first thing on there.
“I’ve never been,” she tells me.
“I’ll take you tomorrow.”
Chuckling, she shakes her head.
She thinks I’m kidding. Well, she’ll be surprised when she finds herself in Paris tomorrow night, eating dinner on the Champs-Élysées.
Lifting my chin from her shoulder, I slide my hands around her waist, linking my fingers over her stomach. “Learn to drive, so Liam doesn’t have to drive me everywhere,” I say, reading the next thing on her list. “But I like driving you everywhere.”
“I know…but I’d like to get my license, so I can drive you around sometimes.”
“Okay, so I’ll teach you to drive.”
She glances back at me again. “You think that’s a good idea? Don’t people who know each other intimately end up fighting when they’re teaching the other one how to drive?”
“So we fight while I’m teaching you how to drive. Just think of the smoking-hot make-up sex we can have in the backseat afterward.”
Her gaze slides back to mine. “You make a good point there, Hunter. Guess you’re teaching me how to drive.” She winks and starts chewing on the end of the pen.
And, now, I can’t stop staring at her lips. I really want them on my cock right now.
And, hello, there he is, hard and ready to play.
I slip my hand upward, cupping one of her tits through her pajama top.
She moans softly, tipping her head back on my shoulder.
I brush my mouth over her ear, loving the way she shudders against me.
Massaging her tit, rolling her nipple between my forefinger and thumb, I continue reading her list, enjoying the gentle moans escaping her, “Dye my hair pink again once it grows back. Um, Boston, I hope to fuck that you don’t expect me to dye my hair pink.”
She giggles. “I think you’d look good with pink hair.”
I press a kiss to her ear. “I love you, Boston, a fuck of a lot, but no fucking way am I dyeing my hair pink.” I read the next thing on the list, “Ears re-pierced, and get something else pierced.”
Taylor had to have her earrings removed for the surgery, and the holes closed up, much to her disappointment.
“Just so you know, babe, I’m not getting my ears pierced.” I give her nipple a pinch.
She laughs and squirms against me. “Okay, so no ear-piercing for you.”
“So, what else are you thinking of getting pierced?” I ask her.
“I don’t know yet.” She shrugs.
My hand leaving her tit, I slide it down her stomach and cup her pussy through her pajama bottoms. “Well, if I have a vote in this, I say a clit piercing.”
She sits up, turning to me, forcing my hand to drop from my happy place.
“You want me to have my clit pierced?” She’s frowning and not looking totally onboard with this suggestion.
“I heard it makes orgasms more intense.” I lift a shoulder, smiling.
“And where did you hear that?”
“I do read, Boston.”
“What? Porn magazines?”
“Hey! There are some really good pieces of literature in porn magazines.”
“Clearly,” she deadpans.
I laugh.
And then she just has to throw out, “Oh, and, Hunter, you do realize that if I have my clit pierced, that means no sex for a significant period of time while it heals. Also, if I’m having my clit pierced, I totally expect you to get your dick pierced.”